


/the tub

by Pearly_Pornography



Category: Trainspotting (Movies)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Drugged Sex, Emetophilia, Heroin, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-15
Updated: 2019-06-15
Packaged: 2020-04-24 11:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19172446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pearly_Pornography/pseuds/Pearly_Pornography
Summary: There's no point in helping a friend without something in return.





	/the tub

**Author's Note:**

> rents is my twink number one but the lack of any porn not involving him is seriously disappointing

Spud showed up at Simon's house far too early in the morning, wandering planet earth aimlessly on loads of heroin. He was covered in dirt, grass, a little urine and an itty-bitty-bit of blood, with this look on his face that didn't read as much of anything.

"Spud." Simon called to him. No response. "Spud, what ye doon'ere, man."

"Euh? Ah 'unno..." Spud's eyelids were fluttering. "Si? 'at you?"

"Fer fuck's sakes." Simon ushered the filthy man into his home. "Take yer shoes off." Spud leaned against a wall, untying his boots and kicking them to the side of the front door. As soon as he maneuvered to sit on the couch, Simon stood in front of him. "No' when yer co'ered in shite."

"Buh Si, me legs is gone an' all."

"They're not gone." Simon groaned, massaging his temples a bit. "Go take a fookin' baff, then." Spud didn't speak for a moment. Then he grinned, and laughed, the dumb kind of laugh you'd expect from a guy like Spud. He mumbled a little, staggering to another side of the room. Simon was about to maybe peel open a magazine when he heard Spud unzipping his pants. "Spud, wot ye' doon' o'er there, friend." He only got a grunt in response, and then loud... meaty slapping noises. "Oh, Christ." Simon rose, grabbing Spud's masturbating hand and wrenching it behind his back.

"Wha- eh- uh- you- euuuhh..." Spud deflated a bit, other hand ghosting over his own flaccid penis. "I were tryn'a take a pish."

"No' in me 'ouse, yer not." An' 'oo the fock pisses by wankin' 'imself?"

"Wouln't come oot."

This man was impossibly retarded, Simon reminded himself. So he hooked an arm around Spud's waist and began guiding him to the bathroom. The light was flickering, it'd probably need to be replaced soon. The water ran with rust, but at the very least it was nice and warm.

"There. Ye' fookin' reprobate." He was about to turn and leave when he heard a thumping sound against the wall. Spud had faceplanted into it, smearing mud against the tile. He whined a little. Pathetic, like a dog. "Ye ken hae t' take yer clothes off, yeh?"

"Yuh, but I'm spinnin'."

"Yer not bloody movin'!" Spud gave him this pitiful look.

"Help me?"

This, inexplicably, set a little fire in Simon's loins. He always had a penchant for things weaker than him, things smaller than him. A suave, emotional manipulator. Of course, Spud was the only person who didn't seem to know any better about that tiny aspect. He didn't really know better about anything, he was just kind of that lovable, stupid friend. The sort that would call you at night asking questions that are equal parts existential and stupid. ("'ow can me frig run if it doon't got no legs?")

"Fine." Simon grabbed the bottom of Spud's shirt, which was plastered to his body with mud. "Christ, man, wot ye been doin'?"

"Fell." Spud sniffed, a bit of blood dripping from his nose. "Real 'ard like." His shirt got caught beneath his shoulders, and he shakily lifted his arms up above his head. Tousled brown wisps of hair took clumps of caked dirt with them as the soaked tee went over his head, finally hanging from his wrist like a flag, uncaught by the wind.

"Ye' can put yer arms doon nae."

"Bwuh? Sorry." Simon's fingers ghosted a few inches away from Spud's still unzipped pants, tugging them down around his ankles. Spud never wore underwear. He said he didn't believe in it. Rents always insisted that it's something you can't 'not believe in', but Spud stood his ground. "Do Ah look pretty?" Simon stared at him with a brow quirked, and nodded. Spud grinned, and he laughed his stupid laugh. "Fanks."

"Roight. Ge' in then."

Spud blinked, stepping out of his pants and crawling into the bathtub. The water ran dark with the mud falling off of his skin, and Simon gently dabbed at his face with a washcloth. Spud hissed.

"Nose!"

"Whup, sorry."

Simon gave his wrenched nosebridge an experimental press. Spud squealed.

"Stoppet!"

"Sorry, sorry." He lowered his voice, in false sympathy. "Do it 'urt?"

"Real bad." Spud sniffed loudly, letting his head hang low like his neck were snapped. Simon blindly took a cup from the edge of the sink, causing his many toothbrushes to fly out of it. Oops. A little shrug, and he filled it with the warm water. 

"Ah shet, 's all grimy."

"Huh huh huh." Poor fucking Spud always had the dumbest laugh. Simon flicked open the drain. There really was no easy way of dealing with this, not when Spud couldn't even fucking stand. Once all the mud seemed cleared out, Simon shifted Spud around a bit to reach the bottom part of his legs -- the back-thighs, and his flat ass. Spud clung to him as he swiped the wet cloth between his legs, making a dirty gurgling sound.

"Thas' a good lad."

They were awfully close. And Spud wouldn't remember this tomorrow. Surely he couldn't hold it against Simon if he did something a little odd. With the wet cloth, he slid his hand between Spud's bony cheeks, settling it over his hole and perineum and scrubbing a bit against it. Spud grunted, hair slick-wet against his forehead. Simon couldn't see his face, but he could feel his furrowing brows against his shoulder. "There. 'at feel arright? Lemme take care a' yeh."

Quickly, he filled the cup with warm clean-ish bathwater and ran it over Spud's dirt-caked hair. It ran brown into the tub. "Am oot'a shampoo. Sorry." He wasn't really sorry, and he wasn't really out of shampoo. He just didn't want to waste it on Spud. Grabbing a bar of soap, he rubbed it into Spud's scalp until it bubbled. Then he rinsed it in silence.

"Ah go' in a fight real bad, like." Spud was hardly intelligible, but Simon had been his friend for years. He knew the intricacies of translating Spud's mumbling.

"Really? Wi' 'oo?"

"Gail." He sniffed again, a little blood dripping over his lip. "Ah mean- Ah canny hit'er none, she's a bird, 's wrong."

"Even if she's hittin' you?"

"Yeh, ah, uh... she go' me good."

"Should'a hit 'er. Am a mate, Ah knoo wa' A'm talken' 'boot." Simon allowed Spud to lean back in the tub. "Anyone e'er tell ye y'look well fit like this?" There was no way to make this not weird, but Spud wouldn't think anything of it regardless. That simpleton, he laughed that 'huh huh huh' laugh again.

"No. Ne'er."

"Really? 's a shame." Simon quickly stood, shucking his sweatpants off and wriggling out of his shirt. "Ye doon' mind if I get in wi' ye, right?"

"I'm okay wi' it, man..." Practically tripping out of his underwear, Simon crawled in full-nude behind Spud, who went limp on top of him. "Yer real warm, like." He closed his eyes. Simon felt ethereal, like a nymph in a forest, with a deer resting on his lap. A stupid, stupid deer. He ran his fingers through Spud's hair, which was now relatively clean. His hands wandered over to the chest, his fingers ghosting over two cherry-ripe buds.

"Remember when we kissed, man?" Simon was drooling, wanting to do something blasphemous, something awful. His digits pressed into each nipple like it was a button. Spud made a grunting sort of noise, knees bent to fit his whole body in the tub. "It were real good, weren't it?"

"Si, what ye doon', mate?" Spud laughed, as if Simon was joking. But there was no joke. No sir, he was getting hard right behind Spud. It was artful, disturbing, disgusting. A wriggling freak in a bathtub with a laughing, drooling mouth, head laying heavy on Simon's thigh. Heroin consumes the libido, but Simon didn't give a damn whether or not Spud was having a good time. He was flaccid, small, hidden shyly in a sock of foreskin.

"I wanny fuck ye, Daniel." Pulling out the full first name, just for a punch. Spud looked glassy-eyed, confused. "Y'feel that? Am hard." Without looking, Spud reached between Simon's legs to see if he was lying. Oh, he wasn't. His palm rested along the shaft, eyes bugging out and mouth open. 

Simon didn't have any intention of letting his prey go. Whether or not Spud was thinking of leaving was irrelevant, he locked his arms around that skinny waist and tugged him close, slotting himself close to Spud's asshole. Spud looked blindsided, blinking and darting his eyes around and squirming a little. "Feel it?" Simon's hands fell between Spud's skinny legs, grabbing his flaccid cock and rubbing gently at it. Spud whined, legs trembling. No doubt, full of scag and alcohol, he was already overstimulated enough. "C'mon, say somethin', Danny boy. How's it feel on ye? C'mon, Danny, tell a mate 'ow it is."

"I dunno." 

Simon spat on his own hand, sliding it up Spud's crack in an act that made him squeal like a piggy. "Si, I got a girlfren' and all!" That was his only complaint. He wanted it bad. 

"C'mon, we're mates. Doon' mean nuffin a' all."

That seemed to put Spud a little at ease, and gave Simon the chance to fit himself partway inside his ass. Blood. Spud made a mewling sound, voice cracking and head tossing left and right. He then pushed in all at once. Silence. "Spud?"

A nasty gargling noise. Spud threw his head over to the left, where the floor was, and spewed hot, yellow-red vomit on the floor. A cough, and then another volley of sick met the first, Spud's whole body convulsing and shaking. Rib-breaking heaves that Simon could feel on his cock, and it felt good. He grabbed onto Spud's tiny body, fucking into him roughly and violently like he wasn't a human being at all. Spud shuddered, vomiting again, this one hitting the wall and shower curtain. He gurgled, weeping and coughing and shaking and it all transferred, Simon felt so very lucky, and very very loved.

He was tight, and his body was alive with pain and nausea, squirming around Simon in a way that felt like God's touch. He laid a kiss on Spud's neck, biting into it. Spud slapped his hands on the sides of the tub, screeching and kicking his legs. "Well, if ye doon' like it, y'can jus' say no."

Spud fumbled with words, completely unintelligible, so messy that even Simon couldn't make sense of it. He clutched tight on the edges of the bathtub, whimpering as Simon broke him in. Rusty water splashed over the sides, Simon's fingers dug deep into bony hips, he was intent on cracking them in half. Splish splash splish splash. Spud grabbed onto the shower curtain, tugging it down and onto the floor and shrieking as it hit the ground.

He fucked his way in deep, blood sticking to his cock as he did, Spud was making noises like a mule getting its tail pulled. Simon slapped a hand onto his ass, making him cry out in shock and dry heave. His trembles went all the way down.

"Yer real good a' this, ye' know? Y'ever do 'is fer scag money?"

"Nngh!" Spud grunted, thrashing around. "No!"

"Doon' be 'at way, I let ye use me facilities." Spud blatantly ignored him.

"No!" He shouted, like a spoiled child, cracking his fists against the wall and kicking his feet everywhere. The motion, it felt amazing, and as Simon thrusted wildly into him he could feel orgasm oncoming. 

"Am gonna cum inny ye."

Spud shrieked, so loud Simon could hear his voice straining. He didn't give a damn. Throwing Spud's body over the edge of the tub, the shower curtain-rod shifting out of the way and into the vomit puddle, Simon screwed him like a back-alley whore. Spud's body tangibly tensed, and he spewed one more time. This one was all water, and the way his muscles twisted up pulled Simon over the edge. He came hard inside, spitting load after load inside of the bloody entrance. 

Then the slow withdrawal, as he pulled out, Spud's body dripped red-white strawberry filth, and went limp. His head rested in a puddle of his own barf. He was conscious -- Simon was used to him pretending to be knocked out. "Ge' up, doon' wan' me t'ave tae wash ye again, do ye?" That set Spud in motion, he went all legs and arms a-blazing off the floor and staggered away to the bright red sofa that Simon loved so much. How many girls had he fucked on that sofa? Probably a hundred. Shame he couldn't add Spud to that list, but doing this again would probably result in Rents poking him a second asshole.

"Yer sick." Spud whined, hiding himself in the throw blankets.

"Yeh, 's what they call me. G'night Spud."

He shut the light off, and went to drain the tub.


End file.
